Everlasting
by Bambi Birthday
Summary: "We call ourselves the Everlasting. We are the ones fate has blessed with immortality." Matthew Williams wakes up to find out he's dead. And now immortal. Now he must adjust to his new life, and learn to accept the rules of the society known as the Everlasting. Au. PruCan.


**Yo, Bambi Birthday here! So this story kinda came to me one day during class (however I'm not sure how economics could make me think of this..). The whole concept is 100% from the mind of yours truly; however, I am eternally grateful to .No.2 for helping me map out the plot and always being there to discuss ideas with me. You are truly the best cousin/sister ever mi amiga :3 Anywho, enough with this author's note, on to the story!**

**Disclaimer: Bambi Birthday does not in any way own Hetalia. If she did, there would be more Romania and Seborga.**

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_Our story starts __on a warm S__pring evening, May__ to be exact. __It was just starting to turn to dusk as a young __man__, Matthew Williams, was making his way home from the local library of the little town he called home. Like most of the nights that week, __the nineteen year-old__ had been studying in preparation for end of the __semester__ exams,__ and__b__y this point, he __was quite exhausted from hours of dutifully memorizing everything he would need to know to pass with flying colors. He was also too tired to notice he was silently being followed by four other people, one of which was brandishing a rather intimidating dagger..._

"No, no no no.. This isn't right. What a horrid way of starting out the story," a man groaned, obviously displeased with his tale thus far. Gathered around him was a small group of children and teenagers, ranging from six to fifteen years of age. They all frowned.

"Aw come on," Peter, a blonde, British preteen, whined. "It was sounding so cool and scary!"

The man sighed, "It's not supposed to be scary."

"Well, it's sounding good anyway," Kylie, an Australian girl, pointed out. "And Künstler was actually paying attention." That in and of itself was actually amazing. Usually the young Austrian boy only ever paid attention to his drawings, or conversations about art, but the man had managed to gain his undivided attention. Even Alexander, a teenager from the state of Nevada, was sitting quietly instead of swearing at the others as he normally did.

"Please continue," a Taiwanese girl named Mei begged.

"Yeah, please please please!" Peter and Kylie pleaded as well.

The storyteller chuckled lightly, leaning against the trunk of the oak tree he and the children were sitting under. "Well, if you all really want to hear the story so badly, then how can I say no? Now where was I?.."

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Matthew's eyes shot open and he gasped for air. He was still alive? But how? He had been dying just moments before. Blood, _his_ blood, had been spattered all over the ground. Yet here he was, wide awake and sputtering for air. Perhaps it was just a nightmare, he reasoned to himself. Yes that was it, his exhaustion must have finally gotten the best of him and he just passed out in this small alleyway.

"Kesesese, looks like the kid's finally coming around," he heard someone say in an accent his racing mind couldn't place at the moment. He slowly turned his head and saw a silver-haired man with bloody red eyes staring down at him from a few feet away from where he was laying. In all his life he had never seen eyes quite like those. Eyes that were so full of fire, yet seemed impossibly old for such a young face. Before he could take in more of the man's odd appearance, his view was blocked by two other men leaning over him with excited grins.

"You're awake!" the brunette with startling green eyes said gleefully, his face inches from Matthew's. Hadn't he ever heard of personal space?

The other man, a blonde with shoulder-length hair and some stubble on his chin, wasn't as close, but still closer than Matthew would've liked. "It's about time you woke up, _mon __ami_. We were beginning to worry that we had been wrong about you."

Wrong about him? What was that supposed to mean? The man was making no sense to Matthew. Just who were these people anyway? He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could even say a word, the two were shoved away by a fourth person.

"Honestly, you two, give the boy some space," said a young man with a British accent and the thickest eyebrows Matthew had ever seen. "After all, he just died."

_Died?_ At that, Matthew slowly sat up as the three began to talk amongst themselves, paying no mind to him at all. What could they mean by that? He wasn't dead; he felt very much alive. Honestly, he felt great, better than he had in quite a while.

"Don't mind them, Matthew," the blonde looked up to see the silver-haired man standing next to him, illuminated by the setting sun. He offered Matthew a hand, which he accepted. As he helped the blonde to his feet, the odd man continued. "Antonio has never gotten to see someone turn, so he's a little more excited than usual," he said, gesturing to the brunette. "Francis," he pointed to the blonde with shoulder-length hair, "is... well, he's just Francis, which annoys the hell out of Arthur." Matthew assumed the man with huge eyebrows was Arthur. "Be ready to see them fight all the time."

Matthew's gaze stayed on the trio for a bit longer. Sure enough, Francis and Arthur soon began squabbling over something while Antonio watched them with amusement. He then looked back to the man next to him. "None of this is making any sense," he said quietly. "How do you know my name? And what's with all this nonsense about being dead or turned or whatever?"

His companion gave a small laugh. "Sorry, I suppose the Awesome Me should probably explain things for you."

"That would be nice," Matthew responded, giving an incredulous look at the words 'Awesome Me.'

"Well, for starters, we've been watching you for awhile -years, actually- so of course we'd know your name."

At this Matthew gave another incredulous look. They had been _watching him_?

"And secondly," the man continued, "none of what we've said is nonsense. I'm not really good with subtlety and all that, so I'll just go ahead and say it: You're dead."

Matthew blinked. "But that's not possible," he insisted, "I'm right here, I'm still breathing, I still have a heart beat," he placed a hand over his heart to emphasize his point, only to feel that his hoodie was very damp. He pulled his hand back and saw his palm was stained red. "W-What?.."

"That would be your blood," the albino informed him. "You got stabbed in the chest."

"But... But..." Matthew stammered. His mind flashed back to his nightmare, to his blood being spattered everywhere. "That just can't be true," he squeaked, panic filling his voice. "I'm not injured, so it can't be my blood."

"Correction: You're not injured _anymore_. You're one of us, so you're body repaired itself after you kicked the bucket."

Still not wanting to believe the albino, Matthew hurriedly pulled off his hoodie and t-shirt, taking note of the holes in both clothing items as he did so, and examined his chest. He was covered in blood, most of it seeming to have come from where his heart was, but he found no wound, no cuts, nothing.

"If you need more proof, there's more blood over there," the silverette said and pointed towards the darker part of the alley. Matthew looked that way and wanted to fall over. Blood was gleaming darkly in what was left of the fading sunlight, and abandoned dagger laying nearby as well. His nightmare had been real.

But it was impossible, illogical. Life-threatening wounds couldn't heal almost instantly. If he really lost that much blood he shouldn't have been standing there, perfectly fine. Things like that only happened in stories or in the comics his brother, Alfred, read. Matthew's racing thoughts then went to Alfred. His twin was probably at home by now, either playing his new video game or helping their mother with dinner. He was probably wondering where Matthew was.

"I... I need to get home," Matthew said weakly, averting his gaze from the bloody part of the alley. "My mom and brother are probably wondering where I am." He pulled his bloody shirt and hoodie back on. How was he going to explain all this blood to his family. No doubt they would freak out.

The albino only sighed. "You're just not getting it, are you? You're not_ human _anymore. You can't just go back to your family, because you're one of us now."

"He's right, _mon ami,_" Francis said, no longer fighting with Arthur. Instead they, and Antonio, were now all staring at him with solemn expressions. While Matthew would have normally been ecstatic over actually being the center of attention, he only wanted to shrink away from their knowing gazes.

"Like he said, you're one of us now," Antonio added, throwing in a sympathetic smile.

And just what _are_ you people?" Matthew asked.

The four strangers exchanged quick glances with each other before Arthur chose to answer him. "We call ourselves the Everlasting. We are the ones fate has blessed with immortality."

Matthew looked at the Brit with disbelief. "Immortality?"

"Yes," Arthur continued, "I know it must sound preposterous to you, but it's the truth. When the few who are blessed die in their mortal lives, they come back as one of us, the Everlasting. We never grow tired. We never age. Human limitations are almost nonexistent to us."

"You're special, Matthew," the albino said, "because you're an everlaster."

Their words swirled in the shy blonde's mind. They had called him immortal, special. So many questions began to form, and he couldn't help but voice some of them. "So I'm immortal? But, why? Are you serious? Why me?"

The red-eyed man only laughed again. "Whoa, calm down, okay? We'll answer all your questions as soon as we get back, so take it easy."

Matthew grew quiet again, not appreciating the albino's laughter, or the other threes' amused smiles for that matter. "You'll really answer all my questions? Every single one?" he finally asked after a few moments of silence.

"Of course," Francis said confidently. "After all, we have all the time in the world."

"Yes, yes, we'll answer any questions you have, now let's go before someone notices us," Arthur said rather impatiently. He couldn't be blamed, none of them wanted to have to explain the bloody alleyway and Blonde to anyone who happened to come across them. As the four everlasters quickly made their way out of the dark alley and towards a car parked not too far away, Matthew silently followed. It was only once they reached the vehicle that he said anything more.

"Can you tell me just one quick thing?" He asked the silver-haired man as they both got in the backseat, along with Antonio.

"Sure, what is it?"

"You know my name," Matthew stated, "and you told me your friends' names." Arthur, in the driver's seat, snorted at the word 'friends'. "But you never told me your name, so what is it?" he asked.

"Kesesese, I did forget that, didn't I? My bad," the man responded back as the car drove away. "My name is Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmidt."

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**Reviews are always appreciated :)**


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